


I don't want to be another footnote in someone else's happiness

by jlaurens



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Past Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Past Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, lex pls enjoy, maria comes in at some point, poor eliza, suicide warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:56:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8970838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlaurens/pseuds/jlaurens
Summary: “Eliza, Betsey, Eliza, Eliza.” Alex sobs into her hair, repeating her name over and over again. Eliza just kept screaming and crying, rocking back and forth and eventually sliding down to her knees until they were both huddled on the cold rooftop of their office building. Washington eventually comes out and wraps a blanket around them both, pulling them back into the building before it began to snow.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheOriginalFanfictionWriters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOriginalFanfictionWriters/gifts).



 

Eliza stepped to the edge, the void looming, calling her like a long lost friend, the wind swirling her long black hair around. She had this feeling in the pit of her stomach that she could step off and sink like an anchor in the black sea, or she could be caught up in the wind and fly like a lost umbrella, but no one was reaching for her. Alexander had left her for John, her father was disappointed in her, Angelica had stopped reaching out.She was too much for Maria, she could tell. Peggy had left all of them, ripped away in a harsh fever. Eliza was never enough for anyone. She wasn’t the smartest Schuyler, that had been Peggy. She wasn’t the wittiest Schuyler, that was Angelica. Eliza was just that, Eliza. She hadn’t deserved to be brought into the Schuyler family. She hadn’t deserved to be with Maria. Eliza shook away the thoughts. She was wearing her best dress for this. Plain, white, long with a blue sash against her ribs. It wrapped itself around her in the wind, floating out like ships on a rough sea. Peggy had given it to her right before she died. Fitting. Death for a death. She deserves this. She makes everyone else’s life harder. 

 

“Eliza!” A strangled cry says, right behind her. “Please.” 

 

Eliza turns to the voice, seeing Alex reaching with an outstretched hand. She turns back around and begins to cry, covering her face with her hands. Her body starts to shake.

 

“Eliza, please come down.” Alex begs. “Betsey, please.”

 

“Stop! This is the only way out. Alex, go home!” Eliza sobs, taking a small step towards the edge, raising her arms like she’s a bird about to take flight, one foot teetering over the edge. 

 

Alex takes a hesitant step towards her, one hand still reaching out. He grabs her hand and pulls her into his embrace. He holds her tight as she sobs, her holding him just as tightly. 

 

“Let me go! Let me go! Alex, I’m sorry, let me go!” But despite her cries, Eliza made no move to leave Alex’s arms.

 

“Eliza, Betsey, Eliza, Eliza.” Alex sobs into her hair, repeating her name over and over again. Eliza just kept screaming and crying, rocking back and forth and eventually sliding down to her knees until they were both huddled on the cold rooftop of their office building. Washington eventually comes out and wraps a blanket around them both, pulling them back into the building before it began to snow. 

 

Eliza refused to let go of Alex for several hours, for fear of being left again. She could pretend he was still hers, at least for a little while. It wasn’t healthy, but what about this situation was? Alex ended up taking her home. He shot a quick text to John so he wouldn’t worry, saying he was staying at Eliza’s tonight, and that he would be home tomorrow. John had never responded, but Alex figured he was just at the studio.

 

Alex drove a delirious Eliza home, who was still crying in the car. Alex worried that she wouldn’t have any tears left if she carried on like this, and he held out his hand to her for comfort. ALex carried her in, laying her down on her couch, pulling her favorite blanket out from the linen closet. She had already fallen asleep by the time Alex had gotten back with the blanket, physically and emotionally exhausted. Alex sat beside her, stroking her hair, keeping an eye on her. It had been a hard day, and Alex blamed himself for this, for her feelings. 

 

“Oh, Betsey…” Alex crooned. “This is all my fault.” It was true. He had left her after 6 years together. He had fallen in love with John long before he met Eliza, and eventually he had to stop lying to himself. He didn't love Eliza, at least, not like that. He thought that being honest was the best option, but clearly he was mistaken. Maybe if Alex had just kept his mouth shut, she wouldn't have suffered. Alex would keep his suffering if it meant that Eliza would be okay. He would have done anything to make sure Betsey was okay. Betsey didn't deserve any of this. Alex put his head in his hands and sobbed. “It's all my fault. I should have let you be happy!” He cries, stroking Betsey’s hair softly. Alex tore his hands away like they burned when Eliza stirred. Alex froze and waited for her to fall back asleep, and when she did, Alex got up and paced the apartment. He knew better. He knew he was going to hurt Eliza, but he didn’t know it was going to be this much. He didn't know that Betsey of all people would try to take her life. She seemed so happy, and she was, and Alex ruined it. It was all his fault. 

 

* * *

 

John had been painting in his studio when he got the text from Alex, so he didn’t check it right away. He hadn’t seen it until a few hours later, and when he did, he was livid. 

 

“Of course.” He scoffed. “I knew this wasn’t real. Eliza will always be more important.” He mutters bitterly, slamming his paints around, roughly putting everything away. He kicks over the easel, it clattering around the floor. He storms out of the studio, yanking his coat on, and angrily hauling a cab. He shoots an angry text to Lafayette.

 

**to: french dick**

 

_ can I come over?  _

 

**from: french dick**

 

_ oui, mon ami. my door is always open to you, you know that _

 

**to: french dick**

 

_ on my way _

 

John had calmed down a bit in cab, enough to pass off the fact that he was fine to Lafayette. He flops down on Laf’s couch and cuddles into his side. Laf puts on some French film that John doesn’t really pay attention to. He watches Laf’s lips move as he recites the lines from memory, watches his hair slowly slip out of the loose bun Laf had piled on his head, watches the gestures he copies from the movie. He suddenly lurches forward and kisses Laf, gripping his shoulders to get a better angle. Laf kisses back for a second, then pulls back just as suddenly as John had kissed him. 

 

“What about Alex?” Laf exclaims. “John, what are you doing?” Laf doesn’t move, staring at John. 

 

“He’s out of the picture, Lafayette. Just kiss me?” John pleads, caressing his shoulders. Laf smiles and obliges happily, seemingly satisfied with his explanation. He had been waiting for this moment, it seems, his entire life. Their first kiss is slow and sweet, and John smiles happily against Laf’s lips, before turning this kiss to a much rougher one, and Lafayette moans into the kiss. 

 

“Gilbert, take what you want.” John says breathily against his lips as Lafayette picks him up and throws him against the bed, a hungry look in his eyes.

* * *

 

Thomas had been at the office when Eliza had attempted, working some overtime, and he had seen the look in Alexander’s great big eyes and he was seriously worried. Obviously, he was worried about Eliza, who wouldn’t be? But somehow Alexander had looked worse than she. He had every want to jump up and run after them, because if Alexander was there to protect Eliza, who would be there to protect Alexander? But he couldn’t. Everyone expects him to hate Alexander, when entirely the opposite is true. He had fallen head over heels for the short, fiery man the moment he had grabbed a stool to be as tall is him in that stupid meeting. He had wanted nothing else but to grab him by the lapels of his jacket and close the distance between their lips.He had wanted to kiss him so hard he was speechless, a huge feat for the small man. Thomas tapped his feet worriedly. He hadn’t seen him yet today. He was probably still with Eliza. Thomas hoped he was, anyway. He couldn’t imagine anyone leaving that girl alone right now.

 

Thomas sighed and picked up the paperwork he had to deliver to Washington. Maybe he could figure out a way to check on Alex later. As he was walking to the president’s office, Alex walked in through the door, looking terrible. He swayed back and forth, bags under his eyes, and pale faced, gripping the wall as he walked. He saw Jefferson and flashed him a weak smile. Thomas quickly crossed over to him. 

 

“Al-Hamilton, are you okay?” Thomas asked, brow furrowing in concern. He gingerly placed on hand on the other man’s shoulder to steady him.

 

Alex scowled, “Why do you care?” Alex shook him off and stalked away, as best as he could in his state. Thomas pulled his hand back like he had been stung, staring at him as he walked away. He should’ve expected that. Normally Thomas would’ve just walked past him, not having said anything to him. Thomas hated himself for this. For falling in love with someone h was supposed to hate. He had every reason to hate him, to not want anything to do with him. He had anger issues, he was loud, his political views are best described as dodgy, but all of this just added up to make him perfect in Thomas’s mind. The receptionist, Abraham Woodhull,cleared his throat loudly. 

 

“Yes, Abraham?” Thomas hissed. The man got on Thomas’s last nerve, and he knew it too.

 

“What was that? Is he really still caught up on yesterday?” Abraham snorted. 

 

Thomas crossed to the desk and slammed his hands down on the counter. “She almost died, Woodhull! Have some damn respect!” Thomas growled. 

 

Abraham swallowed thickly. “Sorry, Mr. Jefferson, sir.”

 

Jefferson stalked off, going to give the papers to Washington. When he got there, he slammed them on his desk moodily.

 

Washington sighed and looked up at Jefferson blankly. “What is it this time, Thomas?”

 

“It’s that damn receptionist! Woodhull! Alexander came in late, looking quite ill, and when he went to his office, Woodhull suggested that he should already be over Eliza’s...attempt, because it happened yesterday!” Thomas flopped in the chair, crossing his arms angrily. “He has no respect, Mr. Washington.”

 

Washington chuckled lightly. “I’ve never heard you call Secretary Hamilton by his first name, Thomas.”

 

Thomas huffed and blushed. “With all due respect, sir, that isn’t the point. The point of the matter is I cannot stand to work alongside someone so disrespectful.” He idly tapped his foot, nervous that Washington was catching onto his feelings about Alex, because if Washington knew, so did everyone else. The man wasn’t exactly receptive to emotions.

 

“Yes, well, that will be dealt with, I promise. Eliza is very important to us, and she shouldn't be disrespected.” Washington nodded towards the door, silently dismissing Thomas.

 

* * *

 

 

Alex had made it through the work day more or less okay, with the help of coffee and energy drinks. He had stumbled out of the office, looking pitiful. Sleep had eluded him the previous night, tossing and turning, doing nothing but worrying about Eliza. Maria had stopped by in the morning, still crying and hiccuping, to let Alex go to work. He had been reluctant to go to work in this first place, saying that Eliza might still need him, but Maria had insisted. Alex had stopped to look and appreciate the love in Maria's eyes as she gazed upon a sleepy Eliza, petting her hair lightly. Eliza deserved her, deserved that love. Undying love. 

 

He had walked through the door that morning, and Thom-Jefferson had looked seriously worried. He had smiled at him, as if to say, “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” Jefferson had immediately walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Alex had relaxed into his touch and then panicked, shrugging him off and stalking away. 

 

Washington had called him into his office later that day, around Alex’s sixth cup of coffee. He had gotten to the point of measuring time that way. 

 

“Son, you didn’t have to come in today. I’m worried you’re working too much. When was the last time you slept?”  Washington had tried to comfort him, pulling him tight into a hug. Alex had fought him off, swinging his arms to get out of the embrace.

 

“I’m not your son.” Alex snarled, crossing his arms and backing up like a scared animal.

 

“Watch your tone, Alexander.” Washington warned, crossing to him. “I’m just concerned about you.”

 

“I don’t need you to care, Mr. President.” Alex was cold, pressing himself against the door, getting as far away as he could.

 

“Son-” Washington had starting walking towards him again and Alex panicked. 

 

He got up in his face and pushed his shoulders, screaming, “Call me son one more time!” Alex had immediately dropped his hands, looking horrified and ran out of the room crying. There he was now, crying and driving home, hoping for comfort from John when he got home. He couldn’t really see the road, but he knew his way home well enough. There wasn’t much traffic this time of day anyway.

 

When he pulled up to their townhouse home, Lafayette’s car was parked out front. Alex smiled softly. His best friend and the love of his life were here. Alex dried his eyes and got out, walking up to the door. He walked in and his heart dropped when he heard moans sounding from his and John’s bedroom. He threw open the door and just stared, the tears starting up again. John just smirked at him, waving a hand lightly. Lafayette registered he was there, but was too giddily high to recognize the implications, and resumed his work on John. Alex screamed, backing away, running out the door and down the street, too upset to even think about driving.

 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed the one number he thought he never would.

“Alexander?” Thomas answered, sounding concerned.”What’s wrong?” Thomas could hear his intense sobbing, and based on the sound of rain, he was outside. 

 

“John-he-fuck, Thomas come find me please I’m somewhere n-near my h-h-house please Thomas.” Alex hiccupped out. 

 

“Okay, yes, I’ll be there. Stay put, please.” Thomas hung up quickly, grabbing  his keys and his shoes, racing down to his car. He drove to Alex’s neighborhood, it wasn’t far. He had been there several times to work on bills and plans to get passed through Congress. He drove up and down the dark streets, searching for Alex. His headlights cut through the heavy rain, and at last he found him. He was huddled up on a sidewalk, his thin jacket wrapped around him pitifully. Thomas jumped out of the car after putting in in park and ran to Alex.

 

“Alex, I’m here.” Alex just looked up at him and sobbed, throwing out his arms like a child. Thomas looked at him sympathetically and picked him up, cradling him tightly to get him out of the rain, the smaller man much lighter than any adult man should ever be. Thomas swore under his breath that whoever did this to him would pay. Thomas set him down in the passenger seat, wrapping him in Thomas’ jacket and the blanket he keeps in his backseat to warm him up.

 

“Alex, what happened?” Thomas asked after getting in the car and turning on the heat. 

 

“J-j-john cheated on m-m-me with L-laf…” Alex stuttered out, clutching at the blanket, pulling it around himself tightly.

 

Thomas set his jaw and gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles turning white. How dare he? How could he? Thomas cast a glance at the broken man next to him and his heart broke for him. He wanted to kill John. How could he have done that to him? 

 

“You can stay with me for a while, if you want.” Thomas offered. “James just moved in with Dolley, so I have an extra room…” 

 

Alex looked offended. “You don't have to take pity on me. I don't know why I called you…”

 

Thomas looked hurt. “It's not pity! It's for a...friend.” 

 

“Why the hesitation?” Alex scoffed. 

 

Thomas took a deep breath and gripped the wheel tighter, pulling into his driveway, putting the car in park and turning to look at Alex. 

 

“I love you.”

 

Alex gasped and stared at him. “What?”


End file.
